


Untitled

by katiebuttercup



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, genderbent character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-19 18:36:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5976982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiebuttercup/pseuds/katiebuttercup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So, what you're asking me is to talk Enjolras out of asking you out"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: characters aren't mine 

"So," Combeferre says carefully with all the weight of a doctor delivering upsetting news. "What you're asking is for me to talk Enjolras out of asking you out"

Grantaire nods, black curls bouncing on her shoulders. 

"Yes!" 

Combeferre steeples his fingers, his facial muscles twitching. His mouth opens several times but he seems to reconsider every time. 

"Why?" 

"Because," Grantaire says, "I'm a screw up! You see us at meetings. I mean you must have told him how ridiculous he was being when he told you!"

"Enjolras never mentioned anything about asking you out" Combeferre said. Grantaire pauses in her pacing to stare at him. 

Enjolras tells Combeferre everything, every important decision is Combeferre approved. 

"That just shows how irresponsible he's being. He's not thinking straight."

Combeferre chuckles, "Enjolras doesn't need to talk about this with me. He knows what I think"

'That it's a horrible idea' Grantaire thinks but doesn't say. 

Grantaire scrubs at her face. "Enjolras plans and plans. He doesn't just do. And this is just out of the blue."

Combeferre tilts his head and studies Grantaire, a slight smile on his face. "You think Enjolras asking you out is sudden?"

"Of course it is!" Grantaire starts pacing once again. She feels like she's going mad. 

Combeferre watched her for a moment, carefully and analytically. 

"When was the last time you and and Enjolras fought,"

Grantaire throws a glance over her shoulder as she walks, agitated. 

"I don't know--a couple of weeks maybe"

"Six months" Combeferre states. He speaks as he does at meetings when things get heated and the facts are getting lost in the inertia.

"Okay," Grantaire allows, still stubborn, still wary. "So I've stopped being an ass at meetings that just means I've learned some manners with my sobriety."

"Actually you haven't," Combeferre corrects, "you're still speaking out at meetings--"

Grantaire laughs at Combeferre's tact. It is quickly wiped away when he finishes with--

"Enjolras is just listening more and--"

"Enjolras doesn't listen to me."

Anyone else would have become annoyed with Grantaire's constant interruptions but Combeferre is a saint and simply lets Grantaire get it out of her system. 

"He watches you."

"I don't give him much choice when I disrupt meetings." 

"Not just then. When you are laughing with Joly when you draw on Jehan's arms. Enjolras is always watching you--he's just slightly better at hiding it then you."

Grantaire settles on the armrest of the couch, slumping like a puppet with its strings cut. Her face can't quite decide on an expression.

"Enjolras didn't talk to me about asking you out because he doesn't need to. He doesn't need to discuss something that's already decided."

There is a long silence. 

"Grantaire no one is surprised," 

"That doesn't make me feel better." Grantaire mumbles, she lifts her leg onto the armrest holding her knee and resting her chin there. 

"I'm not the person you should be talking to" Combeferre says. 

"Yeah I should probably have gone to courfeyrac, he's the relationship guy." Grantaire says to her knee. "I just thought since you're the common sense guy you'd see how ridiculous this is" she sounds vaguely betrayed. 

Combeferre is reliable and sensible. But apparently he's been dating courfeyrac too long. 

"Enjolras and I make no sense--I mean he's a politics major and I'm an art student. He actually gives a damn about the world and I quit giving a crap long ago."

"You know people say the same thing about me and courf"  
His tone tells Grantaire how much he cares-which is not all. 

"That's different," Grantaire protests. 

"Why?"

Grantaire has no answer. It just is. 

Combeferre lets her wriggle on the hook for a couple of seconds but eventually moves the conversation on.

"Did you at least let him down gently?" 

"I tried. He completely ignored me!"

Combeferre raises an eyebrow and Grantaire bites her lip. She doesn't want to reveal her weakness even if everyone is aware of it anyway. 

"He put me in an untenable position!" Grantaire evades. 

Combeferre stares. Grantaire has little to no resistance to it. 

"He told me--he said," God, it's harder then she thought. Even the memory burns hot and bright behind her eyes. 

"He told me to tell him that I didn't love him-that he'd back right off if I told him that." 

Combeferre is smiling again, "so tell him and you're home free."

Grantaire kicks her leg out, it clicks. 

"You know I can't do that! You know that is the one damn thing I can't do"

The smile widens, "So does he"

"So what do I do? Wait till some cause comes along to distract him?"

She's grasping at straws. 

For years she has loved Enjolras, for years she's known it's a hopeless cause. And there's safety there. Safe knowing that Enjolras will never reciprocate her feelings. It hurts but it's familiar and risk free.

She can't conceive of a world where Enjolras would look at her without distain. Enjolras burns, a supernova in human clothing. 

All Grantaire can do is burn at the edges. 

Enjolras wasn't safe. She had known that too. 

"What are you scared of?" 

"I'm scared of what will happen when I screw up or Enjolras wakes up and realises he's dating me. And what about you guys? I can't lose you guys when we split up."

Because Grantaire loves her friends almost as much as she loves Enjolras. A break up could rip the group apart and Grantaire would lose her tiny adoptive family. 

 

"You're making a lot of assumptions and what if statements. Courf and I could break up tomorrow--"

Grantaire scoffs, because, really?

"And so could Cosette and Marius, or Joly and Bousett and musichetta. And as much as I care about you Grantaire I'm not dating you or Enjolras. You and Enjolras would be an independent entity of the group. I'm dating Courf not the ABC."

Combeferre spreads his hands, Grantaire can see the hint of black ink beneath his sleeve, the black moth she had tattooed there. 

Combeferre stands, Grantaire watches through her lashes as he approaches her, kissing her gently on the crown of her head. 

"Thanks for your help," Grantaire murmurs, she wants it to come out petulant but it is gentle. Heartfelt.

"You're welcome"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire takes Combeferre's advice and does the exact opposite

Grantaire texts Enjolras. She keeps it short and sweet. Enjolras texts back a few seconds later with a reply as innocuous and bare as hers,but she can't stop looking at it. 

She's fairly sure that short of an emergency Enjolras has never texted her back as quickly. She resists the urge to text Combeferre to ask about Enjolras's standard text times.

She doesn't. 

Enjolras knocks on her door exactly as he promised fifteen minutes later. Three sharp knocks that makes her insides clench painfully. She hopes its just period pains. 

She opens the door, gesturing for him to come in. She doesn't look at him so all she sees as he passes her is a flash of red jacket.

For a second Grantaire wishes she could have a drink. The alcohol has been a shield to keep people away, to deflect Enjolras's disapproval. 

But she's been sober for a while and Enjolras hasn't seemed to hate the Grantaire that has grown like new skin in the place of old!Grantaire

Enjolras stops, turns and faces her, the whole movement finished in seconds but Grantaire feels herself age a decade or two in the process. 

Enjolras' hair is straight for a change and slicked back behind his ears. It's a different look for him, makes him slightly less of an avenging angel. More human but still unnervingly handsome. 

He grins. 

Grantaire is torn between wanting to kiss him  
And punching him. He's so certain, so sure of Grantaire's affection, that she'll inevitably give in. The fact that it's true doesn't help. 

It's the look he gets when he beats a particularly eloquent adversary and he knows he's won. 

'Just tell him you don't love him' Grantaire counsels herself. 'You've lied to your mother, teachers, the cops. It's easy'

The thing was, she has never lied to Enjolras.

Grantaire forces herself to meet Enjolras's eyes, he quirks an eyebrow in reply. He's enjoying this, Grantaire realises. 

' 5 reasons why this is a terrible idea' Grantaire silently tells herself. She meets the corner of Enjolras left eye. So she's not cheating. 

1: Enjolras is a leader. He's married to social justice 

2: Things have been better since I got sober, don't rock the boat

3: You will always feel more for Enjolras than he feels for you 

4: It doesn't matter what Combeferre says, it'll all go wrong and then you will lose not only Enjolras but your friends.

5: You are not worthy of someone like Enjolras 

"I don't love you," Grantaire says to the corner of Enjolras's eye. 

'You're doing everybody a favour' the voice strengthens her spine. 

"And this is just...the worst idea and...I don't know what you were thinking but..."

Suddenly there are hands cupping her cheeks and she feels her face being gently lifted and now she's staring directly into Enjolras's eyes and her heart kicks spitefully in her chest. The words she has practiced die on her lips.

Enjolras' hands are warm against her skin, it feels as if her skin is drowning in sensation. 

"Try again," Enjolras says.

Grantaire tries. She does. But she can't. 

Something warm and wet trails down her face and Grantaire realises with horror that she is crying. And not properly. Just one measly tear after another.

A sweep of warmth brushes across her cheek, Enjolras' thumb brushing across her skin. His face is intense but gentle. Grantaire hiccups a sob. Tries to wrench herself away even though Enjolras is only touching her face.

"Okay, you win! Are you happy now? You win I can't say it!"

"It's not about winning Grantaire" Enjolras says, he's so close that all she can see are glimpses of his face. A cheekbone, the fine line of his nose, the electric blue of his eyes. 

"Although if you want to get technical we're both winning"

Oh god! Grantaire lets out a gasp that's not quite a laugh because Enjolras is joking. He's making a joke and she's falling apart. 

"I'm glad your having such a laugh at my expense," Grantaire grits out. "It's just so easy for you!'

Enjolras's expressions intensifies, no longer joking. There is something in Enjolras's expression, some pain she hadn't thought existed. Because of her. 

"You think it's been a fun week walking on eggshells with you. You think it's been easy watching you torture yourself. Watching you sabotage yourself and us before we've been even started?"

Enjolras turns away from her, strides to the window and stares out of it. Grantaire stares at the fine set of his shoulders, and sees the burden of the world atop them. She's glad she can't see his face. 

"You just don't see it at all," he's talking to himself as much as to her. Working something out in his head verbally the way he works speeches. 

"It's just so fast," Grantaire says imploringly, "it feels like one day you hated me as normal and then I woke up one day and you asked me out"

"Trust me it's not sudden," Enjolras says sullenly.

"That's what Combeferre said," Grantaire replies. 

"I may not have had these feelings as long as you but it feels like months and all I can think of is you"

"Try years," Grantaire says bitterly.

Enjolras turns, "I get that I'm slow on these things, trust me Courfeyrac made that really clear. And more than once." 

Enjolras reaches out for her, then aborts the motion half way through making it. He clears his throat. 

"I watch you whisper and joke with Joly and I want to know what you are saying. I see you hold hands with jehan and wish you'd hold mine. You kissed Bahorel for a joke and I wished it had been me. I don't know what else you want me to say, what else I can do."

Enjolras digs in his pocket and fishes out his phone, "new abortion restrictions, anti gay legislation, police brutality. That's just this month but there you are at the top of the list and it's all I can do just to get through the day without having you the way I want"

Grantaire has never been at the top of anyone's list, not even her mother's. It's terrifying and exhilarating. 

Enjolras moves and Grantaire realises her expression has betrayed her. 

She breathes his name but it's lost because Enjolras is back in her space. And then he's kissing her. 

Grantaire's hands find his shoulders, trying to anchor herself before she loses herself in sensation, in feeling. 

And when she does let herself go, let's herself feel Enjolras' insistsance it's the best and worst thing she has ever felt because she knows with certainty that she will never feel this way again and to live without it seems impossible.

Enjolras puts everything into kissing her, their noses bump together in their desperation, bodies fitting together as a Enjolras' arm wraps around her waist as the other finds her cheek again. 

"Okay, so I guess that answers the physical compatibility," Enjolras says when they break apart, the grin is back on his face. 

"You probably should've led with the kiss," Grantaire replies, she feels giddy. "I apparently have no resistance against it,"

Enjolras's grin turns wicked, "I'll remember that," and it sounds like a promise.


End file.
